


Hunting Demons

by ArdentRaven



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Gray-Asexuality, Intimacy, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Other, Plot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:40:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29802375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArdentRaven/pseuds/ArdentRaven
Summary: Loba Andrade enlists her best friend Bloodhound to recover a lost artifact from the frozen wasteland of Talos. As they journey together, both of them face their traumatic past and come to share a unique type of intimacy. When the ultimate goal of their adventure is revealed, however, their ideals clash.
Relationships: Loba Andrade/Bloodhound
Comments: 5
Kudos: 19





	1. Demons

**Author's Note:**

> The relationship portrayed in this work of fiction sits *somewhere* on the ace spectrum. The intimacy shared by the two character strikes me as something that is more emotional than sexual in nature. They are still a couple, and their love is just as strong. I am not opposed to portraying them in sexually intimate scenarios (in fact, that'd be a very different, but very interesting story!). I just decided to go with something a little different this time.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loba enlists Bloodhound's help to retrieve an artifact from Talos. As the two travel together and grow closer, they must face the demons that - figuratively and literally - haunt their past .

Loba Andrade’s ship seemed the busiest place on Solace that night. The discreet private hangar – surely leased under a false name – was lit with the warm glow of lamps and lanterns strung high above on thin ropes. The orange and gold light gave the otherwise cold and sparse space a certain coziness; certainly more than usual. People from all across the planet were mingling around the ship, their fine clothes glistening in the lights, each casting half a dozen shadows.  
Bloodhound stood a fair distance from the hectic back-and-forth of bodies. They scanned the crowd; their movements were relaxed, yet excited. An unseen energy seemed to permeate the gathering: wealthy people, used to being in control. Used to getting what they wanted. Waiting for some big reveal. They smiled pleasantly at one another, but their eyes were cold and calculating.

Like sharks.

A sudden movement caught their eye. A shimmer of white and gold, a figure moving through the crowd with all the grace and energy of a dancer. The lights overhead illuminated her silver-lined corset and the gold of her jewelry. Her shadows split in an excited flicker. A smile here, a word there, maybe a gentle pat on someone’s shoulder and suddenly, she stopped. Something had caught her alert gaze. She looked up, smirked, and turned around, scanning not the crowd this time, but the back of the hangar. Her gaze fixated in them. Bloodhound tilted their head with a faint amusement. She smiled as she approached, her tall form providing a stark, dark contrast to the warm lights behind and above her.

“Ah, my guest of honor. Why don’t you join us?” Without breaking her stride, Loba circled Bloodhound and hooked her arm under theirs. They offered the faintest resistance, more as a joke than any real opposition.  
“A strange guest you have chosen – I’m not one for slúður .”  
She rolled her eyes theatrically. “That could mean anything. There are many things you refuse. Not all of them are bad.”  
“Gossip. Idle chatter.”  
She hummed amusedly as she led them towards the crowd. A few curious guests looked on. “You will do just fine. Your stories are interesting. Besides…” she stopped, turned around, and grabbed them by the shoulders. She gave Hound a probing look, arching a single eyebrow, before jokingly dusting off the collar of their coat. “This is the first time I see you wearing something that isn’t ragged and well lived-in.” With a playful wink and a smirk, she left the standing and disappeared into the crowd again.

Bloodhound shrugged and held out their arm. Artur, who had been sitting on one of the ropes above the crowd, descended quickly. The bird landed on Bloodhound’s arm with a gentle caw. The hunter nodded. Yes, every day with Loba Andrade was a new challenge.

* * *

“Of course, chancellor. I can vouch for everything you have seen today – originals from before the war, procured from Psamathe.” Loba nodded as she gave the man a warm smile. It did not take her much more than that – a smirk, a gentle touch on the shoulder or the waist, words that dripped like honey, and almost anyone, man or woman alike, felt compelled to believe her.  
Even Bloodhound themselves was not sure to what degree her methods were deception, and to what they were just encouragement, delivered with such unique grace. They knew, however, that it worked every time. Loba and the broad-shouldered man shook hands, both smiling. The man left the ship, the last of the guests to do so, seemingly satisfied, and half a million credits lighter. Loba herself turned around and leaned against the wall, shooting Bloodhound an amused glance.  
“Did you enjoy the party?”  
“Your guests were óspennandi – unexciting.”  
“Oh, don’t tell me about it!” she chimed in before breaking into an amused chuckle. “Dreadful. But they are rich, and that’s what matters.”  
A drawn-out hum was Bloodhound’s only response.  
She approached, sitting next to them on one of the expensive – stolen – divans. They had spent many hours like this, sometimes chatting, often in silence. Two wolves without kin, two loners who had found each other.  
Still, they were different. As they had spent more time together, Loba had learned that Bloodhound was much less mysterious than most people believed. They were just keenly aware of the value of time, in a way most people were not. For them, each word and movement, was a deliberate decision.  
She considered herself lucky that they had chosen to spend time with her.  
“Maybe I have something to lift your spirits.”  
Hound tilted their head ever so gently. A barely perceptible gesture, but she had learned to read them well.  
“A more exciting hunt, if you will.”  
“Your last hunt had you scared for your own life.”  
She frowned. “Not like that,” she stated after a moment. “No broken ghost, no dimension-hopping, no source code and no demon.” She shifted her weight ever so slightly, half turning towards them. Bloodhound, too, had learned to read her, how she invited small gestures of affection by moving just so and so. They leaned against her, just barely and for a moment. A second of affection, a show of trust. An apology for conjuring a dark memory.  
“So, what is it then?”  
“Treasure, as usual. A drive with a specific set of instructions.”  
Bloodhound remained silent. Loba knew it was because they weren’t satisfied with her explanation.  
“It’s valuable, and it’s not dangerous. But most importantly – it’s not stored in a guarded mansion or a secured vault. It’s supposed to be in some ruined facility on Talos.”  
The silence grew more tense. Bloodhound shifted slightly. Artur cawed from the other end of the room.  
“It will be a distraction from the games, and there is no one I’d rather have with me when searching that frozen place.”  
“You are skemmtileg , Loba Andrade. You have bartered with some of the richest people on the planet all evening, but I can tell this hunt excites you more.”  
“What can I say, I’m a free spirit. Wild at heart.” She laughed again, before turning and placing her slender hand on their shoulder. They both knew that her little tricks didn’t quite work with the hunter. It was a genuine, heartfelt gesture. She was asking for their help.  
“Will you assist me in besting the wilds, oh hunter?” Her tone was theatrical and over-the-top, but her plea was genuine.  
“Fine, Andrade fighter. Then we shall travel together.” Bloodhound instead stated their intent matter-of-factly; the solemnity of their words was entirely intended.  
She gave them a wink. “Good, I expected nothing less from you.” Then she turned towards the open ramp leading off her ship. “It’s getting late. Maybe you should go, and recover from tonight’s ordeal.”  
Bloodhound looked at the ramp, then back at her. With the faintest hint of hesitation, they replied “I have not eaten at your little party. Maybe we can break bread before I go – as a good omen for the coming hunt.”  
It wasn’t a question, Loba realized. Still, she hesitated. Despite all their time together, Bloodhound had always refused food and drink – had never taken their mask off. She was able to take comments and jabs from the most powerful, wealthiest people of the Outlands in stride, but this behavior surprised her. Still, she was speechless only for a second, before giving them a nod. “Of course. There’s plenty here still…” With that, she stood up and went over to the large table filled with expensive food and drink. As Loba filled two plates and glasses, she could hear Bloodhound behind her back, unclasping and removing their gear. She felt a strange sense of anticipation, a mix of excitement and fear. What had pushed Bloodhound to trust her like this? 

Why now?

She steeled herself, turned around, and tried hard not to stare. Bloodhound had removed their large helmet, revealing a tight leather hood underneath. They had pushed their goggles up, and their face was framed by thick, long strands of auburn hair. Her eyes involuntarily stopped on their face, taking in the crisscross of scars and burn marks, faded but still visible. Bloodhound themselves merely accepted their plate of food and raised their glass with the faintest smile. With surpise, Loba realized they must feel as insecure as she did. The thought gave her comfort. Gradually, as she sat down beside them with care, her unease faded away, leaving a warm feeling that made her skin prickle. There was no strangeness, no shame – like all the other times, just two loners who had found each other. Two friends who had but one another in the world. She raised her own glass.

They ate in silence.

* * *

The ship’s ramp opened with a soft hissing sound. Steam surrounded the opening, rising from the ground where the heat of the thrusters had melted the fresh snow of Talos. The ramp extended fully, and the sound stopped. For a brief moment, there was complete silence. Even the usual sounds of a spaceship – the beeping, creaking and whirring that made it seem alive – seemed to have been swallowed by the cold atmosphere.

Then, steps echoed through the hallway.  
Bloodhound finished sharpening the blade of their axe without looking up. Loba emerged from her room, clad in more appropriate clothing for the cold, but stylish as ever. She had exchanged her usual attire for a thick, padded clothes and a warm coat lined with fur, and wore a leather backpack on her back. She had said it was inspired by hunters from old Earth, centuries ago.  
“Shall we go?”  
Bloodhound dragged the whetstone across the blade one more time with practiced ease. They inspected the weapon, shrugged, and, apparently satisfied, put the whetstone away. They reached for a large backpack. “We shall.”

Together, they stepped through the opening and descended the ramp. The snow under their feet made a soft, crunching sound. Loba made a little mound with the tip of her boot and kicked the dark ground a few times. It was hard as stone.  
Before them lay a vast expanse of rocky, snow-covered hills. The highlands beyond a large, wild forest on Talos’ northern hemisphere. Loba’s initial research and a few stops along trading stations on Talos had finally led them here, to what had once been a large military facility. Now, after the ecological disaster, it was just wilderness. Her ship would take them no further – the terrain here was too rough to land on. In the distance, towards the east, a plume of smoke rose from a few low roofs.  
“I still can’t believe people live out here,” Loba said as she took in the view. Her breath formed dense white clouds in front of her face.  
“My people live here.” Bloodhound replied.  
Rather than replying, she turned around and nodded towards the far-away hills. “This is where you shine, Hound. We need to find the control center of this old facility.”  
Artur cawed overhead as Bloodhound moved to stand next to her. After a moment, they pointed at something far in the distance. “You see that?” they asked.  
Loba tried to notice something, anything, but it was futile. She couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Only rocks and snow as far as she could see. “No?”  
“Try again. In the air – there.”  
Yes – there was something. In the distance she could see the air shifting and rising, as if heated by something.  
“Is that – the facility?”  
Bloodhound hummed. Loba noticed they were amused.  
“Not quite.”  
She could swear they were smiling under their mask.  
“Warm springs – we will rest there for the night.”

Artur cawed again, flying high above, ahead of them. Bloodhound broke into a slow jog, and Loba followed behind.

* * *

The pair reached the springs just before sunset. Without much of a pause, Bloodhound put down their backpack, drew their axe, and said they’d procure wood for the fire. Their expertise was impressive, and surprising. Loba had thought that after so many seasons in the games, so much time sent with all the comforts of modern civilization, Bloodhound would have forgotten some of their skills. But they were as sharp and ready as ever. Never surprised. Never in doubt.  
“Let me help,” she asked, unsure of what to do, but unwilling to sit idle. Hound turned to look at hear, head tilted, and nodded.  
“You can make camp. Find a flat area, clear the snow.” With that, they turned the axe in their hand and disappeared into the forest.

Loba did not take offense. They were both pragmatic – this wasn’t a lack of consideration, just how they did things. She stretched, groaning a little. As hard as it was to compete in the games, this expedition was physically exhausting. She, too, put down her backpack, then ascended a nearby slope and looked around from her vantage point.  
The warm springs Hound had mentioned were little more than a number of shallow pools just a few meters away, filled with milky water. The surrounding area was mostly clear of snow, and steam rose from the pools and little cracks in the ground. The ground gradually ascended to the slope she was standing on, and then further, towards the forest. She searched for a while, and, finding a spot that looked flat and dry enough, picked up both her own and Bloodhound’s backpacks, and walked over there.

It took her a while to prepare the terrain. There was less snow here, but the ground was rocky and harsh. Loba didn’t want to spend days walking through the snow with an aching back, so she used Hound’s shovel to dig up the ground a little and move the dirt around while removing the largest stones. Satisfied with her work she stopped, drew and deep breath, and looked around.  
She realized she wasn’t alone.  
A small animal was closely watching her from the nearby treeline. It looked like a large rodent, somewhat resembling a squirrel, but the size of a small cat and with a pair of small horns. Its fur was striped grey and brown, and its bright yellow eyes betrayed its intelligence.  
“Hello, little friend,” Loba said with a smile. “Looking to steal from the Outland’s foremost thief?”  
She chuckled slightly as the animal tilted its head. Sensing no danger, it came closer. Its movements were quick and skittish – whatever this was, it clearly wasn’t a predator.  
“Come on now – don’t be shy.”  
The animal, now hiding behind a rock, peeked over it, focused on Loba. It followed every movement of hers with great attention as she leaned down and opened her backpack. As she produced a large plastic container, the animal’s ears perked up.  
“Oh, very attentive.” Loba opened the container, which contained much of her food for the journey. She broke off a piece of bread, closed the container again, then knelt down on the ground, pinching the food between her thumb and index. “Here.”  
The animal scurried closer. Loba tilted her head. The animal approached even more.  
“No reason to worry. I’m a nice wolf.”  
The animal reached her outstretched hand and sniffed the food she was holding. Loba opened her hand, inviting the animal closer. After a moment of hesitation, it reached for the bread. Loba offered it without resistance. As the animal sat and began to ate, she reached for its back with her hand. After a first, slow pat which had it more tense, the animal seemed to relax.  
They remained like that for a while, the animal enjoying its snack, Loba petting it slowly, smiling.

That was how Bloodhound found her. They approached silently, seemingly unburdened by the stack of firewood they were carrying.  
“Loba -”  
“Sssssh” she said, smiling. She gently caressed the animal a few more times before turning to face them. “Looks like we’ve made a friend.”  
Hound tilted their head. It was odd how much their behavior resembled an animal’s, sometimes.  
“I will just -” Hound approached slowly, but apparently the animal thought this was too much. It turned to face the masked newcomer, stopped for a moment, then turned and dared away, headed for the forest.  
“It seems I may have scared it away. I apologize.”  
There was no hint of emotion in their voice. Loba couldn’t tell if they were displeased or not.  
“It’s alright.” She stood up again and dusted off her pants. Looking at the firewood they were still carrying, she raised an eyebrow and added “are you going to stand there all day, or…?”  
They looked at her, then at the wood, then back to her. “No.” Leaning down, they neatly stacked the wood in a small pile. Loba noticed how their movements seemed a little clumsy, but they quickly rose to face her again. “No, but – I was thinking, we should warm up. It’s been a long day.”  
Before she could understand what they meant, Bloodhound had grabbed their backpack. They walked towards the springs, one hand fumbling to unclasp their helmet.

* * *

She joined them after a while, approaching quickly, wrapped in her coat. Hound was resting, eyes closed, immersed up to their bare chest in the hot springs. They skin was pale, almost as much as the milky waters surrounding them, and they had removed all their clothes save for their mask. Loba wondered for a moment how long they could go without it, if it was merely helpful or if they were in any real danger should they take it off for an extended period of time.  
“You hesitate,” they said, plainly, without opening their eyes.  
She huffed and let her coat fall to the ground, then removed her boots before entering the hot waters. The contrast between the heat from below and the cold hair made her shudder, and she quickly immersed herself deeper. She could feel her skin flushing.  
“I am usually invited to share a bath under different circumstances,” she joked. “Especially by the men. Oh, men are not very subtle about it.”  
Hound hummed in agreement.  
“But this is nice.”  
She stretched her limbs. The warmth was starting to make her feel better, washing away the heavy feeling of a day spent walking through the snow.  
“I realize it is unusual for most people to accept such an invite. But among my kin, we often share days at the springs. It reinvigorates the body and spirit alike. There is no shame.”  
Their tone was only slightly apologetic. Loba smiled.  
“Don’t worry. You’re not the first to see me like this.”  
Bloodhound opened a single eye. The skin around their mask wrinkled as they smirked. “If the voices are to be believed…”  
Loba drew in a sharp breath in feigned indignation. “How dare you! I am an upstanding woman!” She splashed water toward her friend, and Bloodhound shielded their eyes while splashing some back.  
“I can see how your people have no shame – to imply something like that about me!”  
They both broke into laughter – hers loud, theirs quiet, but both equally genuine.  
“I merely meant to say that you have a way with words, Loba Andrade. The Eddas contain no words as sweet as what you whisper in the ears of people you went to steal from.”  
From anyone else, this may have been an accusation. From Bloodhound, however, Loba saw it as just an awkwardly worded compliment.  
She stepped closer to them, leaning against the edge of the pool not far away. Her fingertips sought their wrist.  
They allowed it.  
“Men are easy to mislead. Not many earn my honesty.”  
“But animals do?”  
She thought back to the strange, squirrel-like animal she had fed earlier. A low hum escaped her lips.  
“They have no reason to lie. You can tell what an animal wants, from the look in its eyes, the wagging of its tail, the baring of its teeth. Humans are… complicated.” She paused. “Evil, sometimes.”  
They remained in silence for a bit. A cold wind blew from the north. The sun was setting below the horizon, bathing the sky in a deep, pale red light. The many pools reflected the sunshine, giving the whole area an otherworldly glow.  
“Not all humans are alike,” they added after a while. When she didn't reply, they turned to look at her, their deep blue eyes fixated on hers. “Some are good.”  
“Sure. But you can’t know in advance which is which.”  
“And you, Andrade? Are you good or evil?”  
She paused, taking a deep breath.  
“I don’t… I don’t know.”  
“You are trying to do better.” Bloodhound pushed themselves off of the edge of the pool, and she felt their hand slip through her fingers. But they quickly came closer once more, this time standing in front of her. With uttermost care they took her hand and clasped it gently between their own. “That is what matters.”  
“Hound…” she took another deep breath, then pushed herself forward, into the center of the pool with them. Her free hand wandered over to their shoulder. She inclined her head, and they did the same. They stood in silence for a moment, hand in hand, foreheads pressed together.  
Ever so slowly, they both tilted their heads. Bloodhound’s breathing under the mask became deeper, shivering with anticipation. Her hand grasped their shoulder more tightly.  
“I – Thank you.” Loba whispered. Her lips were mere inches away from the mask, now.  
“This – our companionship – it’s been good for me. A boon I am so grateful for…”  
She stopped as she felt their body tighten under her hand. Their slow movements stopped. Then, Bloodhound pulled away, breathing slowly.  
“Is something wrong?” Loba asked.  
Bloodhound shook their head and turned around. As they did, Loba could see the tears in their eyes.  
“It’s nothing,” they said. Then, they approached the edge of the pool and pulled themselves up. They gathered their things, the clothes, backpack, goggles, and helmet, as she looked on, speechless. Then, the hunter headed back to the camp.

* * *

“I must apologize.”  
Loba refused to look up, instead stoking the fire with the long stick she was holding. She had returned to the camp briefly after they had left, but had found it empty. She had prepared the fire, eaten, and waited. It was already night, but she had decided to stay up until Bloodhound would return.  
As she remained silent, Bloodhound sat down beside her, but at some distance. Leaning back, they continued: “I should not have left, and especially not without a word. That was foolish. Næ, it was grimmur.”  
“You are correct.” She scoffed. “Whatever that word means.”  
They nodded.  
“Your words, they conjured… sad memories. Things I would rather not think about when I am with you.”  
Loba sighed. Even now, even after being left like that, she could feel that connection, that special bond between them. She knew Bloodhound would never hurt her, not intentionally at least. They were hurting.  
“You don’t have to tell me about it,” she said, softly.  
“I wish to.” They cleared their throat. “If you would listen?”  
She nodded.

Bloodhound told her everything. Of how small the village had seemed to them, after seeing so many travelers come through. How they had wished for more – not just more of the world, but more freedom.  
How Boone had offered them all of that, just to go and betray their trust.  
She realized, once more, how similar they were. Alone in an uncaring world. Loba had always believed that Bloodhound was but a temporary traveler, bound to return to their people once they were done with the games. She realized now that the games were their escape from a world that had become too small for them.  
When they concluded their tale, Loba turned to look at them. Her eyes met the dark circles of their goggles.  
“You are not the only one haunted by a demon, Loba. Today, my demons hurt you. For that I am sorry.”  
She felt tears well up in her eyes, but fought them back quickly.  
“How do you deal with them?” she asked.  
The faceless mask stared back at her, questioning.  
“I mean…” She took a deep breath. “We have been hurt. Both of us. We all have our demons. But I sometimes feel like… like I am drowning.”  
She turned to face the fire again. The eager flame made the shadows on her face shiver and excite.  
“Like I am alone in a dark ocean and no one can save me. I am sinking, deeper and deeper, dragged down by that murderous -”  
“The past is a place to learn, not to live in.” Bloodhound interrupted her.  
“We all must fight to free us from its grasp.”  
“How do you do it?”  
“I follow the teachings of the Allfather.”  
She rolled her eyes and chuckled, despite herself. To her surprise, so did her friend.  
“I know how it sounds – I have spent enough time away from my people to understand how strange it is. I have no claim that I am right. Clearly, the teachings have failed me today.”  
They adjusted their goggles. When they leaned back down on their arm, they reached out to her, ever so subtly.  
She allowed it.  
“But it’s the best I can do.”  
She nodded. “You are trying to do better.”  
They hummed in agreement. “You learn quickly.”  
“What if you could just leave it behind?”  
This time, her question was met with silence.  
“I have thought about it often, you know? If I could let go of the hate, of my wish to see the demonio dead once and for all… or if I ever manage to end him for good… what will I do?” She looked up now, scanning the firmament as if looking for an answer in the dark between the stars.  
“I don’t have an answer, really. I feel like so much of me is just… caught up in this dark place. So much of me is him. I cannot imagine how it would be different.”  
“I would be an artist, I think.”  
Still looking at the night sky, she raised a single eyebrow.  
“An artist?”  
“If I were free of my… oath. Of the old ways. Yes, I think I would be an artist. Maybe a poet.”  
“Don’t mess with me.”  
Bloodhound laughed – loud and with abandon, this time. She was not used to it, and it sounded almost unbearably intense in her ears.  
“You doubt my skills, Andrade? Maybe a demonstration will do?”  
She couldn’t help but laugh herself. “No, I believe you. Alright. A poet, then.”  
She felt their hand hold on more tightly to her own. As she turned, she found Bloodhound staring intently at her.  
“About earlier…” they began.  
Loba silenced them with a quick wave of her free hand.  
“I’ve been in stranger situations.”  
“No, I wouldn’t… be opposed. It’s just that physical touch is not…”  
She nodded, slowly.  
“Don’t worry. I have experience walking that fine line.”  
“With the people you steal from…”  
“Yes.”  
“So this is just…?”  
Loba was so used to seeing Hound as a calm, confident figure that the sudden doubt in their voice struck her with force. Only one other time had she felt this worry in them: when they had eaten together on her ship, and Bloodhound had first removed their mask in front of her. The realization was oddly endearing.  
“No.” She reached for their respirator. Her fingers searched for the edge, reached under the leather, and found soft skin. She didn’t pull it off, however, content with just the little warmth prickling on her cold fingertips.  
“No, this is real. This is enough.”  
She felt Bloodhound’s fingers intertwine with hers.  
“You are enough.”


	2. The Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As they reach the ruined facility beneath the snow and ice of Talos, the new relationship between Bloodhound and Loba is put to the test. A moral dilemma risks ruining their bond forever. Can they trust each other's feelings?

They reached the bunker near the evening of the fourth day.  
Loba had admittedly begun to lose hope. She wasn’t used to trudge through ice and snow for days on end – usually she left the dirty work to someone else, and “procured” artifacts only once they had found their way to someone’s mansion. She would have given up on the whole endeavor had it not been for Bloodhound’s sheer, single-minded perseverance. Once they had explored the land and understood what to look for, they had confidently stridden out into one direction and followed their trail.  
Since the afternoon of the second day they had been following an invisible track. Every now and then, they had pointed out a detail to her – a broken pipe, half-buried in the snow here, an unnatural shape in the stone betraying old construction there. This was all new to her, and she had started to think that this was one way the hunter showed affection, now that they were – whatever they had become after that night.

Not much had changed, overall. At a superficial level, all seemed the same. Overall, the past few days had felt strangely ordinary. On the morning of their second day, after that long exchange at the fire the night before, they had simply gathered their things and begun their journey, but yet, she could feel that something was different.  
Loba and Bloodhound had always had a special connection – she had felt it since they had first been put in the same squad, and they had later confessed to the same. But this was different. More intimate. She saw it in the little things: how Hound now shared their thoughts with an ever so gentle rhythm in their voice, a subtle rising intonation, inviting her thoughts rather than simply stating their opinion. How the silence between them, which had never been awkward, now felt warm and dense with meaning. How every now and then, the two of them would exchange a glance, and she knew that, behind the mask, they were smiling.

“I believe this is the markmið of our journey.” Bloodhound approached the reinforced steel walls set into the hillside and tapped against them with their axe. The sound echoed through the hills, and Bloodhound hummed.  
“Old,” was their only comment.”  
Loba approached the entryway. What had once been a tall, domed entrance had gradually rotted and rusted away, beset by the icy wind and rain. What remained was a dark hole leading deeper into the hill.  
“Last time I entered one of these, I sunk half of Blisk’s precious island.” Loba mused as she produced a flashlight from her backpack.  
Bloodhound huffed and shot her a quick glance. “I remember,” they said.  
She smirked in response before pointing her flashlight at the deep tunnel. With a flick of her thumb she turned the device on, and a thin ray of pale light pierced the darkness.  
Broken pipes and cables hung from the ceiling. Snow had settled in the tunnel, and partially melted, leaving large puddles in the cracked concrete floor.  
Loba playfully extended her arm towards her companion.  
“Shall we?”  
Bloodhound looked at the sky above. Artur cawed, somewhere unseen but ever close. “A storm is coming,” they said, before they reached for her hand and pulled themselves up along the wall. The two stepped into the darkness together.

The place was larger than either of them had anticipated. While most of the facility was too damaged to be accessible, it quickly became clear that this had once been an impressive construction. A sort of underground bunker, not just a research facility.  
“Storage” Bloodhound muttered under their breath, passing a large set of double doors. Before Loba could protest, they entered and looked around.  
The walls were lined with heavy steel frames, stacked one above the other, up to the tall ceiling. Vaguely humanoid shapes were hanging from them – hundreds of them. Loba shuddered. The sight reminded her of the facility under King’s Canyon, where she had seen the hundreds of simulacrum bodies of the demon…  
“Specters…”  
The sleek, armored robotic bodies hung motionless. Not a single light flickered overhead. They must have remained like this for decades.  
“Let’s go,” Loba said, taking a few steps back towards the door. “We don’t want to disturb them.”  
Bloodhound hummed and gave the robotic bodies one last look, then they turned around and left.  
There was a tense silence as they ventured deeper into the facility. Loba was checking the signs and words on the walls, looking for something.  
“What are we looking for,” Bloodhound asked.  
“I told you, it’s a sort of drive. It should have data on it.”  
“Mmmmh.”  
Another pause.  
“And how to find it?”  
Loba sighed. “I’m not sure, but the research labs are this way – that should be a good start.”

* * *

It didn’t take them long to find the labs Loba had talked about. Much of the complex was too damaged to hold anything significant, but luckily the labs were still mostly intact. Like everywhere, the ceiling had caved in some places, exposing pipes, cables, or just plain rock. Small fungi were sprouting from cracks in the ground. They could hear the hurried scampering of animals fleeing their advance, but luckily no large predator seemed to have made its nest in here.

As the cold light of the flashlight wandered left to right, it illuminated what seemed to be a large computer terminal. Like everything else in this place, it had probably been without energy for ages, but it was as good a place to start searching than any other.  
Loba approached it, skipping over a large puddle as she did. Her fingers dusted off the old control panel, tapped it a few times, then tilted her head. It didn’t respond – of course. She turned to look at the left-hand side of the terminal, scanning the ports. Nothing here, either. She tapped her chin with a single slender finger for a moment, then dropped her backpack and opened it, searching for something.  
Bloodhound made their way around the room in the meantime, looking at the many broken desks. Little of use or interest remained in the room, although what little was left seemed to suggest that the lab had once been quite impressive. Broken or torn cables ran from the workstation into the ground in thick bundles.  
They turned around as Loba produced a small electronic device from her backpack. With triumphant confidence, she plugged the device into the terminal, pressed a button, and waited.  
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the screen under her fingers lit up. Slowly at first, and producing a whirring, distorted sound, but eventually it flickered a few times and stayed brightly lit. Loba produced a second item from the backpack, a handheld tablet, and plugged it into the first device as well. A holographic keyboard sprung into existence, and rows upon rows of text and numbers began scrolling on the screen.  
“Now let’s see if you hold what I need…”  
“I never asked…” Bloodhound continued. Loba remained focused on the small screen, but she turned her head ever so slightly.  
“… Who pays for this anyways?”  
She remained silent as she tapped on the screen. A single beep confirmed that she had found what she was looking for.  
“Loba?”  
“Oh, don’t worry about it.”  
“Any response other than this would lead me to worry less.”  
She bit her tongue.  
“It’s just some local guy. Wants to reclaim this part of the planet, now that Hammond is gone.”  
She could feel their presence behind her. Bloodhound had silently completed their tour of the room and had approached her.  
“Reclaim this óheiðarlegt svæði ? Strange.”  
She smiled and leaned back slightly, turning her head to lean it against their shoulder as she looked up at them.  
They immediately recognized it as one of her games, meant to distract them.  
“The drive isn’t here anyways, but the files are. That should be enough.”  
“Enough to do what?”  
She bit her lip once more. After a moment of silence, it was clear Bloodhound would not relent. She sighed.  
“What is it to you, anyways? You don’t need to know -”  
“You know better than to play me for a fool, Loba Andrade.”  
“Fine.”  
She drew a sharp breath and sat up straight again. With uttermost care she sat the tablet down next to the first device, on top of the now active terminal.  
“It’s an activation code.”  
“For?”  
“For this – I guess. This place.”  
“The specters.” Their tone was cold, matter-of fact. There was no enmity, only a silent, stern accusation.  
“I didn’t know. I thought it was just some research he wanted to get his hands on, alright? Anyways, what is it to you? We are on the other side of the planet from your people.”  
“What about the other survivors out here?”  
“We don’t know if -”  
“No one uses Specters for manual labor, Loba. You know this. This is a fighting force.”  
She sighed angrily and stood up, meeting Bloodhound’s gaze with cold conviction.  
“You got me here – and I thank you for it. And these days have been special. But this is just a job. If this is where you draw the line, Hound, then I have bad news for you. I’m no angel.”  
“But you have a choice now.” Their tone was cold, unrelenting. But there was something else there, an undertone that anyone else would have missed. That no one else would have been granted. A plea.  
“Think about it.” They continued. “Do better.”  
She huffed. “Easier said than done. What, should I just return empty-handed?” She threw her hands in the air as she turned around. “This world does not follow the laws of your Old Ways. It’s different for me. You have decided to stay out of it.”  
“So can you -”  
“I never had that choice!” she shouted.  
Her voice echoed through the room. The sudden outburst caught Bloodhound by surprise, who took half a step back.  
“You have your honor, your codes, your loyalty. You have kin, your people. You had a choice – and you make that choice, again and again, every day. I could never do that! I am nothing, have nothing, come from nothing. And it’s a dark place. I am never, ever going back there.”  
Her long fingernails were angrily tapping against the screen, now. Where they clicked against the glass, the light flickered on and off.  
“It’s easy to do better when you have that choice. When you everything to gain and nothing to lose.”  
She turned around now, facing them.  
“It’s easy to do better when you can choose your battles.”  
There was a long silence after that. Bloodhound balled their hands into fists, over and over, slowly and methodically. Loba didn’t think it was anger – at least not towards her. Maybe Hound was angry at themselves.  
Suddenly, the silence was broken by the loud howling of the wind, echoing through the dark tunnels. Bloodhound seemed to take this as a good excuse to end the conversation.  
“It is late, and a storm is passing over us right now,” they said. They spoke slowly, each word chosen with care. “Maybe we should both rest and think about what we said today. I will be hap to talk to you in the morning.” With that, they turned around and left the room.

Loba remained perfectly still for a moment, breathing slowly and staring into the darkness through which Bloodhound had disappeared. She knew that her words had been harsh – but she also knew she wasn’t wrong. Hound had spent their entire life surrounded by a tight-knit community, sheltered from the cruelty of the real world. They had no idea what she had to go through, what she had been through before joining the games. Before planning her revenge on the demon that had killed her parents so many years ago…  
The memory came back suddenly and with force. She cried out and kicked her backpack, which sailed through the room and hit the far wall. She could hear something shattering within, but didn’t care, as she sunk to the ground and tried to fight back her tears. There she remained for a moment, just trying not to break, half-sobbing, hands in her hair. It took a few minutes before she could stand and breathe easily again. She suddenly realized how cold it was.  
One last look at her tablet confirmed her that the files had been transferred. She huffed, disconnected the device, and went to retrieve her backpack. This would be a long night…

* * *

Bloodhound awoke before dawn.

They had laid out their sleeping bag in the hallway, in a corner close to the lab. They had tried giving Loba the space she needed, hoping that a good night’s rest would bring her clarity. Their heart ached for her – they knew she was a good person, but they were equally aware of how tormented she was by her past and all the pain she had lived through. She had been right the evening before – Bloodhound couldn’t understand, and they couldn’t demand anything of her. Still, they hoped she would listen and make the right decision.  
They quickly gathered their things and scanned the hallway for Artur. Strange. Usually, the raven never strayed far from them, especially when they slept. They called for the animal, their voice echoing through the long, empty hallway. No response.  
Filled with unease, they shouldered their backpack and returned to the labs. They pushed the ruined doors open and scanned the room, only to find it empty.

Loba had left during the night.

Bloodhound felt a burning rage rising within them, overpowering even the pain they felt at her betrayal. Once again, they had trusted someone who disrespected the hunt. Just like Boone, Loba had roped them into what they had believed to be an honorable hunt – but it had been just a game to her, just as it had been to Boone.  
They cried out lout, their scream filling the cold morning air and seemingly the entire facility. With a quick and practiced motion, they drew their axe and threw it at the now useless terminal, where it shattered the glass screen.  
A loud caw came from behind them, the sound travelling through the facility to meet their scream. Bloodhound drew a sharp breath and rubbed their eyes clean of the tears that had been welling up in them. Artur. He must have followed Loba, tracking her. The hunter walked over to the terminal, pulled the axe out, and turned around. Artur flew into the room, circled overhead once, and sat down on Bloodhound’s shoulder.  
“Now, Artur, we hunt for good. Engin miskunn.”

* * *

“Loba Andrade!”  
Bloodhound’s voice was so loud, so furious, that a flock of scared birds flew from a nearby tree. The dark cloud of wings and beaks passed overhead, cawing loudly.  
It had been easy for Bloodhound to follow Loba’s trail. She was not used to this terrain, but they were. Artur had followed her when she had left, and they could move faster than she ever could. It was barely afternoon when they had finally caught up with her.  
“Loba Andrade,” they repeated. “Show yourself.”  
They emerged from the treeline and stopped. Loba was sitting in the snow on a rocky cliff, arms crossed under her coat. Her back was turned to Bloodhound, and she didn’t react to their shouting.  
Axe in hand, the hunter approached her. The sound of their footsteps on fresh snow seemed almost unbearably loud in the silence left after their shouting.  
“Hugleysi” Bloodhound stated coldly. “I did not think you so cowardly.”  
“Calm yourself, Hound.” Was her only response.  
“Calm myself? You have betrayed my trust! I gave you everything, and you flee with that control file for an army just to -”  
“It’s gone.”  
Bloodhound tilted their head in surprise.  
“What?”  
She patted the frozen ground besides her. Hound looked at her, clearly uncertain of what to do, before they stepped closer and looked over the ledge. Far below them, they could see a small frozen pond. There was a roughly quadratic hole in the ice that covered it.  
“You -”  
She nodded. “Threw it down there. The only remaining copy.”  
They suddenly felt empty, and cold, as if all the energy that remained in their body had left them. Drained out of them, thrown into the dark waters, together with the control file. The sunk to their knees next to her, dropping the axe in the snow.  
“You changed your mind?”  
“Sort of.” She drew a long, shaky breath, Bloodhound realized she had been crying.  
“I guess some things are just not worth it.”  
“I -”  
“Don’t apologize again.” Despite the situation, she chuckled. “It’s strange enough to hear you do it once. I couldn’t stand having it happen twice in just a few days.”  
They nodded.  
“I shouldn’t have said those things yesterday,” she said.  
“No, it was good you did.” They balled their fists again, then reached out to her, gently. Rather than taking their hand, Loba leaned against their shoulder. Her head fit snugly into the curve of their neck.  
“Your words were grimmur, but they were right. I cannot understand what you had to go through.”  
“But you did help me.” She smiled. “I like to think I did better.”  
They nodded again, slowly this time. Their arm reached around her shoulder, and they pulled her closer. She shifted her weight slightly.  
“I am proud of you, Andrade fighter.”  
She huffed, then chuckled. “Yeah. Whatever.”  
“One step away from your demons.”  
“And towards a brighter future.”  
Bloodhound felt her hand moving up along their neck, a single finger of hers tracing the edge of their mask.  
“Hound?”  
“Hæ?”  
She pulled at the mask, and Bloodhound allowed it, leaning down slightly as she exposed their face.  
“Kiss me.”  
They remained like this for a long time.


End file.
